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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268097">But Isn't Midnight Intermittent?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeveofconnacht/pseuds/maeveofconnacht'>maeveofconnacht</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Fall (TV 2013), The X-Files</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bisexuality, Blizzards &amp; Snowstorms, F/F, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:08:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268097</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeveofconnacht/pseuds/maeveofconnacht</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Scully's family makes an emergency stop at her apartment while Stella is visiting.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, Stella Gibson &amp; Dana Scully, Stella Gibson/Dana Scully</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>With all the stress everywhere at the moment, it's nice to settle in and escape. I'm currently self-isolating so I need places for my mind to go, you know? Well. Here we are. I've never written this ship before, so hopefully I don't mess it up. Making things up as I go, to some extent.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>December 23 </em>
</p><p>The wind’s force made the window frame in Scully’s living room groan. She glanced outside at the thick blur of white, snowflakes pelting down and blowing sideways so quickly there was an illusion of static. She squeezed the cold teacup in her hand and remembered a book she liked as a child. In <em>Coraline, </em>the only world that existed was the one the other mother had created. Of course, <em>Coraline </em>wasn’t a Christmas story, and the weather outside wasn’t controlled by her mother.</p><p>Maggie Scully was in her kitchen at that moment in despite the snowstorm, as were Bill, Tara and little Matthew. She glanced at the kitchen door and could see the light beaming out from the crack underneath it. Down the hall, she heard the shower spray hitting the bottom of the tub, below her girlfriend’s feet.</p><p>When news outlets first announced the storm, Scully had thought of cuddling with Stella in bed instead of taking her to the airport, eating sugar cookies with her on Christmas Eve and waking her up with kisses on Christmas day.  She hadn’t thought to call and tell her mother she would stay put, had not even considered telling her mother to do so as well, or her brother for that matter. But thirty minutes after Stella had told Scully, smiling a little at Scully’s desktop, that her flight had been canceled and fifteen minutes after they had settled on the couch together, Scully’s legs in Stella’s lap, Scully’s phone had rung,</p><p>“Scully, honey.” Her mother’s voice had sounded crackled. She’d gone to Raegan despite the weather warnings, picked up Bill and co because rental car services had shut down, and now they was afraid they wouldn’t make it back to her new home out of the city. “I’m so sorry dear. Can we stay with you?”</p><p>Scully had looked outside at the tiny white flecks hurling toward earth.</p><p>“Just for the night.” Her mother added.</p><p>She’d looked at Stella who gave a single nod.</p><p>“Of course, Mom. Just be safe.”</p><p>Now they were congregated together in the kitchen cleaning dishes and preparing to eat the pastries Maggie Scully had brought with her to the airport to surprise Matthew. Scully thought about their chatter, then about the remaining bear claw in the neat little pastry box, the soft dried confection sugar dusting its top. Scully side and began to stride toward the door.</p><p>She paused at it before opening when she heard Bill. “And who is she again?”</p><p>Scully’s diaphragm tensed and she held in a little breath.</p><p>“Dana’s friend. She was visiting and got snowed in.”</p><p>“How does she know her? She’s English.”</p><p>“I'm not sure. Probably something to do with work.” Scully heard dishes clatter and Tara shush Matthew.</p><p>“What happened to the male agent? Mulder.”</p><p>Scully chose that moment to push through the door, causing her mother and brother to jump. “Anyone want a cup of tea? I’m going to make more.”</p><p>“Dana honey, it’s getting time to put Matthew to bed. Where do you want us all?”  </p><p>Scully put the cup down next to the electric kettle.  “I was thinking that Bill, Tara and Matthew could be in my room – it’s the biggest. I have a sleeping bag. Or Matthew could share the bed with you.” She looked at Bill and then, when he didn’t respond, at Tara. She smiled and Scully thought she looked vacant. Tara always looked vacant, Scully thought, before chastising herself for her own internal monologue.</p><p>She turned and then began to fill the kettle with water. “Mom, I figured you can take the guest room, and Stella and I’ll sleep out on the couch.”</p><p>As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt her stomach clench. “In the living room, I mean.”</p><p>“Dana, just share the bed with me. No need to curl yourself up on the loveseat.” Maggie Scully placed a wineglass in the sink.</p><p>
  <em>Loveseat. Stella in her lap kissing her, teasing her nipple with a soft, warm hand while White Christmas plays in the background. The smell of Stella’s perfume – something like cedar and roses – surrounding her. </em>
</p><p>Scully swallowed. “That works.”</p><p>The kettle began to boil.</p><p>“I’m going to take Matty in.” Tara said. “Dana, which room?”</p><p>Scully smiled and held the door open for Tara. She led her out of the kitchen, through the living room and down the hall to her bedroom. The shower stopped running as she opened the door.</p><p>“Stella’ll be out in just a second,” Scully told Tara as she set Matthew on the bed. He rolled around on Dana’s comforter. “Oh, let me change those sheets.”</p><p>Instead of turning left toward the guest room where she kept the extra bedding, she headed to the end of the hall. She knocked softly on the bathroom door. There was no response. Scully tried the handle. In the bedroom, Matthew screeched. “It’s me," she whispered. </p><p>Stella opened the door, holding a towel up over her breasts. A little pink cloth was on her head. “Get in.”</p><p>Scully slide inside and shut the door. Steam washed over her, hanging in between the green floor and wall tiles. “You’re sleeping on the couch I’m afraid.”</p><p>“That’s alright.” Stella dropped the towel and began to dry herself.</p><p>Scully watched as Stella moved it over her arms and legs, the tautness of her belly and fullness of her breasts visible through the steam. She licked her lower lip. <em>Look up. </em>“My mom thinks it makes more sense for me to share the guest bed with her rather than sleep on the loveseat.” Scully said.</p><p>“It is more logical.” Stella smirked as Scully looked her over again.</p><p>Scully took three steps toward her and put her hands on either side of Stella’s waist. “I was hoping to spend the night with you.”</p><p>“I know.” Stella pressed herself against Scully’s front. “Believe me, I don’t relish sleeping on that couch all night.”</p><p>“What if I joined you?” Scully rested her nose on Stella’ shoulder. She smelled like the soap Scully bought from the farmer’s market – eucalyptus.</p><p>“Dana.”</p><p>"I could tell her, you know.”</p><p>Stella pulled away from Scully and held her gaze. “Do you want to?”</p><p>“Yes,” Scully whispered. Her hands were still resting loosely on Stella’s hips even as Stella stepped away from her.</p><p>“But not over the holidays.” Stella pulled away completely and grabbed her towel. “Please don’t – even if it’s for my sake. This isn’t a Hallmark movie.”</p><p>“I know,” Scully said. She sighed and forced herself to turn. “I gotta get those sheets for Tara. She probably thinks I got lost in my own home.”</p><p>Stella grinned. “Well she is quite expressive, isn’t she?”</p><p>Scully rolled her eyes and then walked out of the warm, muggy bathroom.</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm figuring in this Scully didn't spend her whole time on the run with Mulder - that he told her to leave. Merry Christmas!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After helping Tara make the bed, Scully left her to read to Matthew. She plodded along her carpeted hallway to the living room and met Stella’s gaze as she entered through the open doorway. Her mother and brother were seated on the couch, their bodies tilted toward Stella, who sat with her knees half curled under her, swung to the side. She cuddled a hot cup of tea between two raised sleeves of a grey-knit sweater. Scully recognized her mug. She smiled at Stella, made her way across the room and plopped into the open space on the loveseat. “Tara said she’ll be out soon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Does she need help?” Bill asked.</p><p> </p><p>Scully shook her head. “She said not to worry. Matthew’s so tired from the trip he doesn’t even realize that with the time differences, he’s basically going to bed early.”</p><p> </p><p>Bill chortled and nodded. As she looked at the lines on his face, Scully suddenly remembered Bill as a boy – the time he’d brought her home from up the street after she’d fallen off her bike, trying to keep up with him. He’d cleaned the gash on her leg and gently pressed a fat band aid across it. Then, he’d pressed a kiss to the top of her knee and smiled - just like that – like the smile he had now.</p><p> </p><p>Bill focused on Stella and the smile fell, a smirk rising in its place. He cleared his throat. “So Stella, no family at home waiting for you?”</p><p> </p><p>Beside Scully, Stella pursed and waited. What Scully knew of Bill from experience, Stella knew innately. He didn’t need Stella to reply to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Married to the job? A bit like Dana.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bill,” Maggie said.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just joking. You said they met at work, so on a case. Isn't that what she has? <em>Cases.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“I was on a case, actually,” Stella said. Her words sounded crisp and clean. “Dana consulted for me on the body.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm.” Scully’s mother had her water glass to her lips. She sipped and swallowed. “No bodies on Christmas.”</p><p> </p><p>Bill held up his hands. “Just making conversation. It’s not my fault Dana’s work is cutting up corpses.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s your capacity in the Navy, Bill?” Stella asked.  “I imagine something less tangible.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully forced her face into a neutral expression. She loved it when Stella got prickly.</p><p> </p><p>Her brother’s smirk fell from his face. “I’ve worked my way up the ranks to Captain. Not quite the same as a detective status.”</p><p> </p><p>“Detective Chief Inspector, actually.” </p><p> </p><p>“She got promoted last month,” Scully said. Stella had called her and told her with her same calm way she was speaking now, her crisp consonants and measured vowels. Scully had heard the lilt in her voice and known she was smiling, probably secretly to herself because Stella didn’t share her joy with strangers. They’d celebrated the moment she arrived at Scully’s – December 15 – wrapped together under the Christmas duvet that Scully took out religiously December 1.  </p><p> </p><p>“Does that promotion bring you to cases in the US?” Bill said. “Or…”</p><p> </p><p>“No we were in London. I was doing the fellowship, Bill,” Scully said. She felt a sudden sense of irony - they were not meant to be acting a couple, but aren't these the kind of polite conversations one has with a new couple? Well, she supposed polite was a strong word. </p><p> </p><p>“So it didn’t have anything to do with international conspiracies.” Bill said.</p><p> </p><p>“Who said it didn’t?” Stella said and sipped her tea. She stared at Bill and held his gaze. One of her eyebrows quirked up.</p><p> </p><p>Tara walked into the room and the staring contest ceased. “He’s asleep and the rest of his gifts are wrapped,” she said.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, sweetheart,” Bill said. His eyes flicked back to Stella.</p><p> </p><p>“Almost 2006, can you imagine?” Maggie said as Tara settled herself on the arm of the sofa next to her.  “I can’t believe Matty turned eight last week.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s growing up, isn’t he?” Bill said.</p><p> </p><p>“He started a new school this year, didn’t he?” Maggie asked.</p><p> </p><p>Bill nodded. “It’s a bit hippy. Lots of interesting families.”</p><p> </p><p>“Interesting?” Dana asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Alternative. Lots of vegetarians or people obsessed with ‘going organic.’ Boys with hair their parents don’t cut. A couple unconventional couples, too, if you know what I mean.”</p><p> </p><p>“Matty’s enjoying it,” Tara said. "It's a better education than the base schools - smaller class sizes. We were lucky to get the spot - it's all done by lottery, see." </p><p> </p><p>“Mmm.” Bill was frowning. “The school's fine for now. He'll need more structure when he’s older.”</p><p> </p><p>They sat in silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Matthew’ll be up early,” Tara said finally. Scully felt a tinge of anger and then guilt at that anger. She knew Tara spoke about Matthew because she loved him, maybe because she didn’t know what else she was an authority on in this company - but William was never far from her mind and Scully felt the loss acutely when she looked at Tara. For some reason, Tara not knowing this was an insult. She wondered for a moment what he was doing tonight – if his new parents had put presents under a tree for him. She bit her lip. Three years. Two years since Mulder told her to go back to a normal life. “We can’t do this now,” he’d said. And where was William in the separation? Lost and undiscussed. Thinking about William hurt and yet it was somehow tidal, grief's inevitable and constant rush and withdrawal. It was exhausting. Scully wanted to curl up into her own bed and think about William until she couldn’t think about anything – until Stella’s arms wrapped around her and soften her own self-hatred for giving up her little boy.  </p><p> </p><p>“It’s getting late,” Maggie said. She stood up and stretched. “I’m off to bed.”</p><p> </p><p>“We should turn in too,” Bill stood the same way Scully remembered her father stood. “Tara?”</p><p> </p><p>The three of them made their way to the hallway entrance and then looked back at Scully.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll help Stella set up here,” Scully said.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>Scully stared out the window. Her mother’s breathing had slowed after murmuring to Scully while they both climbed into bed, <em>I’m glad you’re with a friend Dana. Yes Mom. Do you know where Fox is? </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>She loved Mulder – a part of her always would – but she loved Stella the way a fire consumed a fireplace. She knew her mother just wanted her to be happy. She wanted to tell her she’d found someone. She imagined her mother’s face – in church pews, in her kitchen, her jaw set <em>you weren’t gay before what about Ethan and Jack? Why’d you ruin Daniel’s home, Dana? What about Fox? What about Fox? What about Fox? </em></p><p> </p><p>Mulder.</p><p> </p><p>Stella. She was fading in and out of consciousness. She imagined a glimpse of Stella’s face. William again. Mulder. Her mother- jaw set. ‘Unconventional family.’ William under a tree. William crying with an empty stocking. William with a full stocking. Daniel’s daughter calling her a homewrecker. Stella. Stella holding her. William calling someone else Mom.</p><p> </p><p>She sat up slowly, letting the comforter slide down her bare shoulder. She loved that comforter – green with red embroidery. Scully swung her legs over the side and crept to the doorway, pausing to make sure her mother’s breath remained steady. She snuck down the hall, her bare feet hitting the tight-weave blue carpet.</p><p> </p><p>“Stella,” she whispered at the doorway. Her girlfriend looked up from her book, a hard little frown pressed on her face.</p><p> </p><p>Scully didn’t ask. She walked up to the couch. Stella had already turned off the little booklight and set in on the ground. Scully cuddled into her side.  </p><p> </p><p>Stella kissed her shoulder and then sighed. “You better not fall asleep,” She whispered in her ear. “Your family will find us.”</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t,” Scully said, but she felt her muscles relaxing in Stella’ warm arms, her thoughts fuzzing at their edges. She closed her eyes. “I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully felt Stella shift for a moment. “Love you too,” she whispered.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>December 24 </em>
</p><p>She was being wrenched up from somewhere soft, warm and dark toward consciousness.</p><p> </p><p>“Dana, you need to wake up.”</p><p> </p><p>Stella’s low timber crept over her shoulder,</p><p> </p><p>Scully cuddled closer into Stella’s side. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“You need to get back in your bed before your mother is up. I set an alarm.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully groaned. “Are you leaving tomorrow?”</p><p> </p><p>Stella hummed. “It depends.”</p><p> </p><p>“Please stay.”</p><p><br/>Stella did not respond.</p><p> </p><p>“What time is it?</p><p> </p><p>“Four,” Stella whispered.</p><p> </p><p>Scully felt sharp cold air slide up her her arms as she crawled out from under the blanket. A twinge of age stiffened along the edges of her joints.</p><p> </p><p>“Please. Don't stay up,” she told Stella, her eyes cracked into slits. Stella was a poor sleeper and a poorer judge of how much sleep she needed for her own good. </p><p> </p><p>"I'll try." Stella was already turning on her book light.</p><p> </p><p>Scully crept back into the guest bedroom. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>“Dana, if you don’t come now, you’ll risk not coming at all.” Maggie’s bottom lip jutted out just slightly. She was leaning on the kitchen counter next to Scully, as Scully stood at the sink washing dishes from breakfast. “There’s supposed to be a break before the next storm comes in – enough to get back to the house – and then another storm tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mom – Stella’s going to be here until the 29th now,” Scully said. Stella had told her as she pushed slices of toast into Scully’s yellow toaster earlier that morning. The rest of her family was already in her living room, checking road closures. “After you went back to bed, I talked to my boss,” she had said. “I’ll be coming back after the holiday – the 29. If that’s alright.” Her voice lilted up at the end. </p><p> </p><p>“Really?” Scully had been grinning. “You’ll stay here with me?”</p><p> </p><p>“If that’s acceptable. I know you’ll spend Christmas day with your family.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully had sneaked a kiss on her cheek.</p><p> </p><p>Now, her mother was trying to catch her eye. “Invite her too, then. The more the merrier.” Maggie said.</p><p> </p><p>“Mom, I –”</p><p> </p><p>Stella appeared in the doorway. She offered Maggie a small smile and moved around her to put her teacup in the sink.</p><p> </p><p>“Stella, would you like to spend Christmas with the family?” Maggie asked. “I’m telling Dana here that she better come over now or she won’t make it on Christmas day.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s very kind, Mrs. Scully,” Stella said. Scully caught her eye for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh Maggie's fine."</p><p> </p><p>Scully cleared her throat and placed the dish she was washing in the dishrack. “You’re also welcome to stay here. Or…”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be silly, Dana,” Maggie said.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you. I’d like that.” Scully remember when Stella was speaking to constables that she needed information from – the leveled, earnest but withheld tone used. She was using the same tone now and for a moment Scully felt a little angry. <em>Don’t patronize my mother. </em></p><p> </p><p>But, of course, Stella hadn’t asked for this. Maybe she shouldn’t have believed Scully when Scully had told her she’d spend the day with at her mother’s and then return home to Stella, cooking something or curled on the couch. That was before the announcement that the oncoming flurry had developed into a storm. It would start sometime late that night.  </p><p> </p><p>“Perfect. We’ll all leave this afternoon. Together.” Maggie straightened herself away from the counter. “I’ll go tell Bill. Oh – it’ll be wonderful to have a full house.” She strode back out of the kitchen, hands clasped.</p><p> </p><p>Scully swallowed. “I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?” Stella asked. “You don’t control the weather, darling.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully groaned. “I’m not even certain the roads are safe. Bill is determined, though, and he does have the experience.”</p><p> </p><p>“A navy captain with driving experience? A man of many talents.” Stella grinned.</p><p> </p><p>“I, however, do not.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can drive,” Stella said.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s on the other side of the road.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m a <em>woman </em>of many talents.”</p><p> </p><p>Now Scully was smiling. She finished washing the last dish. “More impressive, somehow.” She turned and faced Stella. “We can still stay here, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is it important to you, to go. Right?” Stella walked over, glanced at the door to the living, before placing her hand lightly on Scully shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>Scully remembered her third year of med school – three months before meeting Daniel, cramming in anatomy review. She’d spent only two hours with her mother on Christmas day – stopping by after her mother’s dinner for a quick piece of cake. She felt a little silly for not thinking of all the Christmases she missed for work, alien hunting, ghost hunting…desperately trying to adopt her little girl. <em>And where was her mother then?</em> But that year in med school was the first time she had privileged work above her mother’s meal and celebration.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll go. We’ll eat too much, play with your nephew,” Stella said.</p><p> </p><p>“You play with children?”</p><p> </p><p>Stella smirked. “Of course.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I only read this over once...whoops</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>December 24</em>
</p><p>Bill was scraping ice of the car as it idled. From her apartment window, Scully watched the exhaust puff up from behind the car. Near him, Matthew was kicking a snowbank, chipping away the hard snow to try to form a ball. She smiled. Bill and Tara had kept Matthew in the confines of her little apartment, checking road conditions and re-arranging their suitcases, until the plow rolled up her street around 10 AM, after which Scully had offered to take Matt on a walk.</p><p> </p><p>She’d gone with Stella and they’d held hands when Matt marched ahead. For a moment she thought about William – he’d be running ahead now too, albeit more slowly than his cousin. Then, without warning, she’d seen a brief flash of Stella holding a swaddled infant. She had bit her lower lip and tried to focus on the image in her mind, feeling a little guilty as she did so. Out in the snow, still mostly clean and white, it had been easy to think about how things might be, however fantastical.</p><p> </p><p>Now, Scully slid into her wood desk chair and woke up the computer. She could hear Maggie and Tara talking about buying groceries in the kitchen. Stella had tiptoed to Scully’s room to pull her underwear and shirts from the top draw of Scully’ dresser and her pants and sweaters from her closet. The desktop blinked to life and she typed her password in with the fat keys.</p><p> </p><p>She double clicked the email icon and waited for the array of squares and mail icons.</p><p> </p><p>Congratulations – Institute of Cancer Research, London</p><p> </p><p>There were other unread messages of course, but Scully ignored them. She’d applied for the position almost two months ago – only Stella knew about it. They’d discussed Scully moving the last time she’d visited Stella – August:  Stella asking <em>what would feel worthwhile, </em>lying in bed, arms wrapped around Scully, late one Saturday morning. Then texts and musings in the following days. She’d found the research position a week after returning home, applied and filed the idea away in the back of her mind like an unsolved case. It was unlikely, in research, for an unknown to receive a place.</p><p> </p><p>She clicked the email.</p><p> </p><p>Dear Dr. Scully,<br/>We are please to inform you that you have been chosen…</p><p> </p><p>“I think I got it all.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully jumped and saw Stella standing the entryway, tugging her sleek black suitcase behind her. She waved her over. “Stella.” Her voice sounded low and breathy, even to her own ears. “Look.”</p><p> </p><p>Stella tucked her suitcase against the wall, glanced over her shoulder, and then strode across the room. She squinted at the bright screen.</p><p> </p><p>“You got it,” Stella said.</p><p> </p><p>“I got it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you…?”</p><p> </p><p>Scully realized she was grinning. She felt heat rush to her face. “Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>Stella glanced over her shoulder again and then leaned down and kissed Scully. “Well done, darling.”</p><p> </p><p>When Stella went to pull away, Scully followed her. She opened her mouth and pressed her tongue to Stella’s lips. Scully felt Stella’s tongue slide against her own. She moaned.</p><p> </p><p>“Dana?” Her mother was calling from the other room.</p><p> </p><p>Scully jumped. Maggie appeared in the doorway. “Ready?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>At one time, Scully had thought her mother might leave the little house she shared with her father in the suburbs of Maryland. Margaret Scully had simply redecorated. During her brief stint working at the academy – before the X Files had been returned to her and Mulder - Scully had spent her weekends painting her mother’s walls cream. It still looked good. She tugged her mittens off in the entryway.</p><p> </p><p>“Have you guys finished shoveling the drive?” Maggie said, appearing from around the corner.</p><p> </p><p>“I just left Stella and Bill to put away the shovels,” Scully said. Stella had insisted – Scully got colder faster, since her cancer, and had been the only one shivering.</p><p> </p><p>“When did you two meet, again?”</p><p> </p><p>“About eighteen months ago now. A few weeks into my fellowship.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm. And she’s really got no one at home?”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s not close with her family.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really not a boyfriend?”</p><p> </p><p>Scully shrugged her coat off her shoulders. She felt the heat of the house burning at her cheeks and fingers. “Nope.”</p><p> </p><p>Maggie smiled. “I guess with law enforcement and she does seem… well I’m glad you two have each other.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully wanted to scoff. <em>She seems what?</em> She nodded to her mother and turned to face her. Better to have Maggie happy when she told her about the job. She’d need to do it soon. Maybe not over Christmas but…</p><p> </p><p>“Do you ever hear from Fox, Dana?” Maggie asked.</p><p> </p><p>Scully had rehearsed this response in her head but she stiffened a little anyway. “He’s doing some traveling, I think. Look – Mom. I’m going to hope in the shower.”</p><p> </p><p>Maggie caught Scully’s arm as she walked past. “Dana, honey. I know you two were close but there’s not harm going on a few dates. I just want you to know – I want you to be happy.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Scully could see the wrinkles around Maggie’s eyes and lips. She looked older, all of a sudden: delicate.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” She kissed her mother’s cheek.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's still technically Christmas time 'till January 6 right? 12 days? :) I'm going to try it finish it this week. </p><p>I've never written smut before at all, so apologies if it's awkward.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Matthew was buzzing around the living room. He examined ornaments on the Christmas tree and then crouched down and started the train at its base, all while telling Scully what he was hoping to receive in the morning.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think he’ll be able to get through the storm, though?” He asked her, looking up.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s prepared for this kind of weather.”</p><p> </p><p>“But how?” Matthew stood up and walked over to where Scully was seated on the couch. His head cocked to the right. He was tall for his age – meeting Scully’s gaze with is sharp, blue eyes. Eight years old, he was starting to ask more questions about Santa.</p><p> </p><p>Scully cleared her throat. “Well. I’m sure he’s updated his sleigh from what they normally draw in pictures. I bet he’s studied physics and aerodynamics.” Scully leaned forward. “And he’s probably a little supernatural.”</p><p> </p><p>From the armchair by the window, Stella chuckled and went back to reading her novel.</p><p> </p><p>“That makes sense I guess.” Matthew crinkled his nose. </p><p> </p><p>Scully smiled. When Matthew was earnest, he reminded her of her brother Charlie. She remembered very little about him when he was a baby – for an entire year she couldn’t see him without thinking of Emily. When William came along, Scully had wanted him to meet his cousin but there hadn’t been time. Then there was her brief stint with Mulder on the run before he told her to leave, her year in London another eight months later. She wondered if she should have picked up the phone more often.</p><p> </p><p>“Matthew,” Stella said, and Scully snapped back into focus. “You know Santa’s been around a long time.”</p><p> </p><p>Matthew nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s had a lot of time to learn to deal with the logistics of delivering his gifts.”</p><p> </p><p>Matthew nodded again. His eyes were wide. Scully knew he hadn’t learned what logistics meant. Stella’s voice sounded low and serious, like she was talking to another detective. He straightened his back.</p><p> </p><p>“He may even be as smart as your Aunt Dana,” Stella said.</p><p> </p><p>He broke into a smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>Scully laughed.</p><p> </p><p>Bill, Tara and Maggie walked into the room. Bill approached the window and glanced outside. “Hasn’t started yet.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not due to start until very late,” Maggie said. She sat down on the couch next to Scully.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not to say it isn’t late now,” Tara said. She surveyed her son. “I think it’s bedtime.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mom, five minutes?” Matthew stuck out his lip. Scully saw it again – Charlie as a little boy, wanting to stay up late with Bill and Melissa. <em>Where was Charlie? </em>Well, yes. In Boston with his partner but what did he do each day? Who did he love, now? The last time she'd seen him was at Melissa's funeral. She’d stopped trying to reach him after that. </p><p> </p><p>Maggie smiled. “Santa won’t come if you’re awake.”</p><p> </p><p>After Tara had guided Matthew out of the living room, hands placed firmly on his shoulders, Maggie patted her thighs and stood up. “I’ll go grab the Christmas cookies.” She disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.</p><p> </p><p>“Matthew is so big,” Scully told Bill.</p><p> </p><p>Bill nodded, settling himself in the empty armchair opposite Stella. “That’s what happens to children, Dana.”</p><p> </p><p>She bit her lip. Stella put down her book and lifted her chin slightly to watch them. She didn't need to push Bill, not tonight. But watching him squirm a little, even if made her angry, was the kind of remedy she wanted. “He reminds me a little of Charlie.” </p><p> </p><p>Bill frowned. “You don’t know him, then.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully sucked in a breath. “I only said – ”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s not like Charlie.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright.” Scully raised her hands in surrender. Stella looked at her with a little, unhelpful raise of her eyebrows. “You know, it isn’t a bad thing, Charlie is successful and happy, as far as I’m aware.”</p><p> </p><p>“You keep in touch with him, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“On occasion,” Scully said. She had no qualms about lying to Bill.</p><p> </p><p>“Look Dana, I’m glad he’s alive and not on the street somewhere but he walked out on his family. I don’t want that kind of cowardice for my son.”</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, she hated Bill. Navy or not, she wasn't sure he even knew what real courage was. Everything was in order for Bill - the world outlined for a man like him to overcome struggle. “Are you serious?” </p><p> </p><p>“Cookies!” Maggie appeared from the hallway and set a tray of sugar cookies and shortbread on the table. “Help yourselves.”</p><p> </p><p>The room settled into quiet. Stella climbed out of her chair like a cat and reached across to take a shortbread square. Her grey cardigan hung loosely at her sides. She held her spine straight and crossed her legs in the armchair, again. “Thank you, Maggie.” Her voice was low, smooth, glossy like fresh paint.</p><p> </p><p>Maggie smiled and cleared her throat. “Stella, are you missing home this time of year? I bet London is beautiful at Christmas.”</p><p> </p><p>A bite of cookie still in her mouth, Stella smiled. She nodded, swallowed and cleared her throat. “London is lovely. Very dressed up.”</p><p> </p><p>“They had already decorated all the shop windows when I was there. Mom,” Scully said. “They started the middle of November.”</p><p> </p><p>“Seems a bit early,” Bill said.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe,” Scully said. “But I enjoyed it. The whole experience was great – you’d love it, Mom.”  </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure.” Maggie smiled at her. “But I’m glad you’re home.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Around 11:00pm, after Bill and Scully had laid out gifts from Santa under the tree, Scully watched Tara lead Bill by the hand to her mother’s guest bedroom. Maggie followed, turning back at the entryway to the hallway. “Don’t stay up to late,” she told them. “Dana be quite coming in.”  </p><p> </p><p>Alone. Scully grinned and shifted sideways, stretching her legs along the couch. Stella eased herself off the armchair and curled into Scully’s arms, positioning herself between Scully’s legs so they were seated back to front. Scully placed her chin in the crook of Stella’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Is it snowing yet?” Stella whispered.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm.” I can’t see.</p><p> </p><p>“Shall we check?”</p><p> </p><p>Scully kissed Stella’s neck. “We’d have to get up.” She slid her hand down Stella’s side and brought it up to cup her breast.</p><p> </p><p>“Only for a moment.” Stella arched up slightly, leaning into her touch.</p><p> </p><p>“But you’re finally here.” Scully began to kiss Stella’s neck again and make small circles around her nipple.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been here all evening.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully kissed behind Stella’s ear and nuzzled her hair. She brought her hand down Stella’ abdomen to her underwear line. “But you’re finally <em>here.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Dana,” Stella whispered.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmmm?”</p><p> </p><p>Stella guided Scully’s hand under her underwear – lace trimmed, Scully thought briefly – before letting it rest.</p><p> </p><p>Scully slipped her hands between Stella’s folds. She felt slick and warm. She began to make slow circles up and down, around her clit.</p><p> </p><p>Stella hummed. “God that feels nice.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully kissed her neck again and kept rubbing as she felt Stella start to get wetter in her hand. “Merry Christmas.” She exhaled, could feel herself growing warm. "Have you been naughty or nice?”</p><p> </p><p>Stella snorted.</p><p> </p><p>Scully stopped and Stella moaned.</p><p> </p><p>“Well?”</p><p> </p><p>“For you?” Stella breathed. "Both, I should think." </p><p> </p><p>Scully giggled. She slipped a single finger into Stella and began to lightly brush her clit with her other fingers.</p><p> </p><p>Stella stifled a moan.</p><p> </p><p>“Is this good?” Scully asked. Every so often, even now, she felt a little bubble of doubt rise up from her stomach to her chest. Stella was the second woman she’d slept with, after all, and her first proper girlfriend and sometimes she worried she somehow had missed cues - was doing it wrong, was fumbling around like a teenager. Even now was somewhat of a rarity – usually Stella took control, guided the exchange. </p><p> </p><p>“M-more.”</p><p> </p><p>Stella felt warm and soft against her. She felt her own clit began to pulse and she shifted, trying to relieve the friction. She added a finger into Stella’s cunt and began to press, ever so slowly, on Stella’s clit. Stella stifled another moan. Scully curved her fingers and rubbed then against her g-spot. She used her thumb to circle her clit.</p><p> </p><p>“Dana – I’m close.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully’s other hand rose and cupped Stella’s breast. She pumped in and out of her and then, with her thumb, pressed Stella’s clit until Stella made a little hitched sound in her arms and buried her head sideways, into the little crevice between Scully’s chest and the couch. Scully felt Stella’s cunt clenching and unclenching around her fingers. She was breathing heavily.</p><p> </p><p>When Stella’s breathing had returned to normal, she looked up at Scully and kissed her, pushing her tongue into her mouth. When she pulled away she was already shifting in Scully’s arms, rising up to straddle her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>December 25 – early</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Scully could feel her breathing slow – her chest cavity expanding and contracting deeply as sleep creeped up around her edges. Her eyes were closed. Stella hugged her like a blanket, resting her head on Scully’s chest. She smelled faintly of her cedar perfume and sweat, behind her ears.</p><p> </p><p>“Dana,” Stella whispered.</p><p> </p><p>Scully didn’t respond but opened one eye and peaked out at her. She saw the texture of Stella’s hair through the near darkness, the window casting a blue, blurry glow over the room.  </p><p> </p><p>“Dana.” Stella lifted her head and brushed Scully’s hair back from her face. She began to ease herself up off Scully. Scully whimpered as cold air filed the empty space.</p><p> </p><p>Stella walked over to the window. “It’s snowing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Snowing.” Scully couldn’t remember her last Christmas snow. Maybe it had been that year she’d dated Jack; she’d agreed to out to a beach on Chesapeake Bay Christmas morning, because Jack worked the day before and after. It had snowed on the beach – the sand turning white and the ocean looking like liquid black marble.</p><p> </p><p>She stretched and forced herself to stand up, tiptoeing to the outline of Stella. Outside, a feeble streetlight cast a yellow halo around its top. Scully could see snowflakes drifting through the halo, floating a little before they fell. “It’s so peaceful.”</p><p> </p><p>Stella raised her chin ever so slightly.</p><p> </p><p>Scully hugged her arms around herself. She remembered being very young, praying to God for snow on Christmas. “My brother Charlie and I used to wear our pajamas inside out to get snow on Christmas day,” she said.</p><p> </p><p>Through the darkness, Scully could see Stella smirk. “Care to elaborate?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a good luck trick. Like crossing your fingers.”</p><p> </p><p>“How very scientific of you.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully chuckled. “Charlie insisted it couldn’t hurt whenever I voiced doubts.”</p><p> </p><p>“What was Charlie like?” Stella asked. She kept her face facing the window.</p><p> </p><p>Scully bit her lip and then licked it. “Charlie…he was sweet, and brave and a bit of a brat. He’s only two years younger than me but I always thought of him as a kid. Until he came back from his first semester of college – I was back from my third – Mom and Dad were living here by then. He seemed older – all gangly teenage arms and legs but earnest. Like something was a little different. And then he came out to the family. Right around Christmas, actually.”</p><p> </p><p> With her peripheral vision, Scully saw Stella shift her balance.</p><p> </p><p>“At first, nothing much happened. Mom asked Charlie if he was sure a few times and made him say yes he was over and over. Dad stayed silent for two days. I –” She felt herself flush and her stomach clench. “I remember thinking for a little while that he was going to let it all go. That it would be fine and Mom would calm down. I – I was thinking a lot about myself then, too.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Her father standing at the head of the table and clearing his throat as Dana and Melissa cleared dishes. Bill off, somewhere with his girlfriend. Charlie sitting, staring at his half- eaten food. Her mother in the kitchen. The red tablecloth and the nativity scene on the side table. Her father’s eyes, narrowing. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“I think it was the day after Christmas. He told Charlie he could overlook his <em>preference </em>so long as he didn’t date men. But if he intended to do that, then he should consider making himself scarce.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm.” Stella was looking at her now, the edge of her nose barely catching the ambient light from the window.</p><p> </p><p>“Charlie left two days later. Mom cried for a week. He stopped coming home, after that. Maybe a day here and there but…” Scully shook her head. “We kept in touch – him, Melissa and me. I even told him when I realized about myself. He really wanted me to tell Dad.” She was whispering now.</p><p> </p><p>Stella grabbed her hand and guided Scully toward her. She stopped, inches from Scully’s face and then wrapped her in a hug.</p><p> </p><p>“I just wasn’t brave enough,” Scully whispered into her shoulder. “And now I won’t ever get to tell him.”</p><p> </p><p>Stella didn’t let go.  </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>December 25 – later </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“It’s Hotwheels!”</p><p> </p><p>Scully smiled to herself as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She looked outside the kitchen window. Her mother’s little yard was covered in thick snow. A bright blue sky seemed to top it like a layer of construction paper.</p><p> </p><p>“Any more left in the pot?”</p><p> </p><p>Her mother walked into the room, pulling her robe closely to her and hugging herself. “Always.” She poured a cup and handed it to her.</p><p> </p><p>Scully could see her mother’s snarled knuckles and the slight bulge of her blue, basilic vein as she placed one hand around the mug. She held it up and the let the steam cover her face. “What would I do without you, Dana?”</p><p> </p><p>“Bill’s here now,” Scully said.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s my son, not my daughter.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully bit her lip. “Mom.”</p><p> </p><p>She jumped as a clatter came from the other room. “Be careful!”</p><p> </p><p>Maggie raised her eyebrows. “We’d better go see what chaos we’re missing.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Still December 25 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Can we go play in the snow?” Matthew asked after breakfast.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure Matt,” Bill said. He reached over across the table and brought a leftover cinnamon bun to his lips.</p><p> </p><p>Matthew slid out of his chair and sprung up. “Can we go sledding?”</p><p> </p><p>“Grandma doesn’t have a sled,” Tara said.</p><p> </p><p>“We can use cardboard! I’ve seen it on TV.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe tomorrow,” Bill replied, taking an enormous bite of the bun.</p><p> </p><p>Matthew frowned. “Okay. Can we build a snowman?”</p><p> </p><p>Bill smiled between bites and nodded. “Sure, bud.”</p><p> </p><p>“Matthew,” Scully said. “Can I help?” She’d watched him open his gifts all morning and talk about what they were to her, and she found the ache of thinking of William dulling the more he talked. Matthew was his own person. She balled her hand into a fist under the table. If she was going to try to get to know her nephew at all, now was the time. She resisted the urge to glance away – it was amazing the suspense one felt, waiting for the approval of a child.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully relaxed.</p><p> </p><p>“Is Stella coming too?” Matthew asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d like that,” Stella said, her voice sounded smooth, her British vowels stitching consonants together like fine strings, almost invisible.  </p><p> </p><p>Scully glanced at her and winked.</p><p> </p><p>“Great! ‘Cept you two can’t hold hands this time because it’s gonna be a huge snowman! The biggest in town.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hold hands?” Maggie asked. The kitchen became very quiet.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, Scully couldn’t breathe. She remembered the walk the day before. Matthew had been up ahead, not paying much attention them, except of course he must have been because he’d seen them holding hands and –</p><p> </p><p>Stella’s lips were pressed into a hard line, and her expression, perfectly neutral.  It was the kind of expression Stella wore when a someone in front of her in the coffee shop line made a silly request. It was the <em>this is perfectly ridiculous </em>face. And it was ridiculous to pause and worry over – it was holding hands.</p><p> </p><p>Then, Stella said, “Matthew, have you learned about friction?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know if you rub two things together, like hands, you create heat?”</p><p> </p><p>“Like rubbing sticks.”</p><p> </p><p>Stella nodded. “It’s harder to start a fire when it’s cold for that reason. Less heat.”</p><p> </p><p>Mathew stared at Stella, biting his lip the same way Scully did when she was confused. Somehow, though, Bill and Maggie had moved on cleaning dishes and murmuring about dinner– deduced that they hadn’t actually been holding hands but rubbing one hand between others for heat – intimate but somehow not incriminating.</p><p> </p><p>Scully glanced at Tara. She was looking at her.</p><p> </p><p>The phone rang.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you've made it this far, thanks for reading :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>December 25</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Scully had never met Tara’s mother, but she would hug her for her marvelous timing, if she could.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t know you knew Tara’s mom,” Scully said.</p><p> </p><p>Maggie took the seat Tara had just vacated. “Oh, we chat on occasion,” Maggie said. “She knew I was getting to see Matthew this Christmas. She and Bob’ll see him at Easter.”</p><p> </p><p>“Leave it to grandmothers to communicate more effectively than most of the US navy,” Bill said.</p><p> </p><p>Maggie leaned over and kissed the top of Bill’s head. “Hush.” She turned and looked at Matthew. “Now. It’s seems to me about time to get ready for a snow day.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The snowman had a wide, squat base that Scully and Stella had created, rolling a little snowball around the yard until they had to heave it. Bill and Matthew had built up a tall torso and an almost perfectly round head which, after assembling the first two chunks, only Bill could secure in place.</p><p> </p><p>Now, Scully watched Matthew and Bill kick little trenches through the snow, looking for sticks resting on the grass below. Maggie had somehow convinced Stella to go hunt for a hat and scarf inside. She glanced up at the sky – still dark blue and without texture. She could hear a bird chirping somewhere nearby – likely on the snow-dusted branch of the bare oak in her mother’s yard. She liked how much snow reduced ambient noise, acted as a damper for every distant call or thrum of a machine. Not that there were any machines on the road.</p><p> </p><p>“Dana?”</p><p> </p><p>Scully jumped. Tara stood behind her.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi.” She bit her lower lip and forced a smile. She’d decided to play dumb if Tara brought up Matthew’s hand-holding comment, but pretending she didn’t know what Tara was talking about made her sad, somehow.</p><p> </p><p>Tara stood next to her. “Everyone having fun?”</p><p> </p><p>Scully nodded. “The boys are trying to find appropriately long arms.”</p><p> </p><p>Tara laughed. “Matty really did make the biggest snowman in town.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully’s smile morphed into a real one. “It’s very possible.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey.” Tara’s voice lowered. “Dana, um, about what Matty said…”</p><p> </p><p>Scully felt her chest tighten. She’d faced killers, been abducted, said goodbye to two children, and she didn’t much care what Tara thought of her, not really. Why was she so nervous? It was irrational. It felt like causing a scene, even as Scully fought to keep her face in a perfect neutral. Scully didn’t cause scenes.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What if Tara tells Bill and Bill tells Mom and it makes her cry again? </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“I’ll make sure he doesn’t ask more questions, but for what it’s worth, you two look really sweet together. If…if you <em>are </em>together.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully stared at Tara, warmth flooding her chest and pooling into her stomach. “Thank you,” she said, bowing her head a little. She tried to curb her smile even as she felt a rush of shame at how she’d joked about Tara before.  </p><p> </p><p>Tara, for her part, look relieved. “I know your family may not…” she paused. “I know they may not support the idea, but I know that I do.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully nodded again, once, twice, three times like Tara’s words were some kind of magic charm she could cast with a movement. She so prided herself on self-sufficiency she forgot, sometimes, how support felt from someone other than Stella. She thought about Charlie again. Well, that was what he’d been asking her all those years ago, wasn’t it, when he wanted her to come out? <em>If you do it, they might relax a bit. </em>He’d wanted his family’s support. It hadn’t been a ask to her, not really, but it wasn’t a baseless one. She wondered if support that came too late was an insult.</p><p> </p><p>“Look what we found!” Maggie called. She stepped through the back door holding an old-fashioned top hat above her head. Behind her, Stella carried an ancient, orange scarf in her arms like a cat. She smiled at Scully as they approach. As she got closer, Scully could see the rosiness in her cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I love her. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Stella didn’t talk to her mother, Scully knew. She’d told Scully, once when Scully found an old photograph of the two of them standing rather stiffly together, that it wasn’t her fault her mother never wanted to meet her. Stella didn’t have siblings, either. She didn’t know her cousins. There weren’t other people for her. There wasn’t anyone in her family to make it right.</p><p> </p><p>Scully smiled back at the two of them. “Those look great! Hey, Mom.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm?”  Maggie was examining the hat, brushing off the dust at the rim.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to make a call.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>There were three people on this side of the Atlantic that knew that Scully wasn’t straight. One of them was currently outside fashioning a scarf on a snowman, and one of them was somewhere in the Yukon, last time she’d checked.  </p><p> </p><p>She’d told Mulder one night, curled up next to him in a motel in Kansas, after a case involving a bereft teenager who believed her beard had turned into a werewolf and ate her girlfriend (her girlfriend had been found the next morning, alive and asleep in her dog’s kennel). It has slipped out – Scully couldn’t remember how - when they were cuddled in the motel bed together.  Mulder had continued to trace patterns along her shoulders and thanked her for telling him, said it didn’t change anything. She’d loved him for that, then. It was the kind of loyalty, unfussiness, she loved Stella for now.   </p><p> </p><p>Now, she was waiting for the third person who knew with the receiver pressed into her ear. She’d had to dig Charlie’s number out of the little paper address book she kept in her purse. The phone rang four times before she heard a little click and a voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello?” He sounded a little gruff over the life.</p><p> </p><p>“Charlie?”</p><p> </p><p>“Dana?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hi.” Scully bit her lip again – it was taking a beating today. “Merry Christmas.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, Merry Christmas. It’s been a while.”</p><p> </p><p>“How are you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. Fine.” Charlie’s voice raised a little.</p><p> </p><p>“Still in Boston?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep. Cambridge.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you still with – with your partner?” She’d never met Charlie’s last boyfriend – only seen him, waiting quietly in the car, at Mellissa’s graveside service.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I’m still with Jacob.”</p><p> </p><p>“Would you two like to meet for coffee sometime? When I’m up there next. We – I – could make a weekend of it.” Stella would like Boston, Scully thought. She’d like the little cowpath streets and the harbor, the cannoli from North End and the Gardner Museum. “I’d like to take you two out to dinner. And, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” Charlie stretched out his syllables. “Dana, is everything alright? Is Mom sick?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes – everything’s fine.” She took a deep breath. “I guess – I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I owe you an apology.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“I – I didn’t do enough, in the past. I should have tried to change Dad’s mind, back then.”</p><p> </p><p>She heard Charlie sigh. “It’s over now. It’s okay.” His voice sounded low and tight.</p><p> </p><p>“Is it?”</p><p> </p><p>Charlie didn’t answer.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m with someone now. And I’m going to tell Mom.”</p><p> </p><p>“A woman?”</p><p> </p><p>“Her name is Stella. I – she’s great she’s…”</p><p> </p><p>“You sound happy.” Charlie’s voice had raised again. “When did you meet?”</p><p> </p><p>“I am. Really happy. We met about a year ago.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s great.”</p><p> </p><p>“Charlie. I called because I wanted to tell you. I – I wasn’t ready, all those years ago. But I…” She looked at the photos hung in the hallway – her mother and father, she on the top of a pig-pile of siblings at ten years old, Bill in his Navy uniform. “It’s time.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So this will be a bit longer than I expected (overall) but I'm almost done. Hopefully we're not too far past the holidays for pretty winter vibes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>December 25 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you tell me?” Charlie’s voice was soft. It made Scully remember the time her high school councilor had tried to get her to explain why she kept smoking cigarettes at lunch – a kind of reproach made as gently as possible.</p><p> </p><p>Why had she called him? She hadn’t made his Christmas any better – not really. He was still isolated from his family. “I feel guilty, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” She heard Charlie take a deep breath. “Don’t. It’s over. We were both young. I’m glad you called.”</p><p> </p><p>“Merry Christmas, Charlie.”</p><p> </p><p>“Merry Christmas.” A beat. “I hope we’ll see you and Stella, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Me too,” Scully said. She was smiling.</p><p> </p><p>“Good luck.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.” She hung up. She stared at the phone for a moment and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.</p><p> </p><p>“Why were you calling Charlie?”</p><p> </p><p>Scully jumped. Bill was standing in the hallway with his shoulders squared. </p><p> </p><p>Scully faced him. “I wanted to wish him Merry Christmas. Is that allowed?” </p><p> </p><p>Bill’s jaw clenched. “What are you going to tell Mom?”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus, Bill. You don’t get to listen in on my conversations.” She should have used her cell phone, damn it, should have called somewhere tucked away. She should have just waited until she’d charged it again instead of resorting to the landline.</p><p> </p><p>“You said it was time. What did you do now, Dana?”</p><p> </p><p>She scoffed and made to move past him. “That’s none of your business.”</p><p> </p><p>He blocked the doorway to the kitchen and stared down at her. “You leave us all in the dark, Dana, ‘till you’re almost dead or you’re gone. It hurts Mom.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully fought to keep her voice low and steady. “It’s personal, Bill.”</p><p> </p><p>“So you’ll tell the brother who left this family twenty years ago?”</p><p> </p><p>“He didn’t leave, Bill. Dad kicked him out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Dad gave him a choice.” Bill had raised his voice. “Dad was entitled to choose the kind of people he wanted around.”</p><p> </p><p>“Charlie was his son!” Scully was starting to shout. </p><p> </p><p>Bill narrowed his eyes. “Just because you disappointed Dad doesn’t mean to get to criticize him when he’s dead.”</p><p> </p><p>"Fuck you."</p><p> </p><p>"Maybe it's better. You didn't break his heart, too, what with your decisions."</p><p> </p><p>Scully heard the sound of her hand hitting his cheek before she’d realized she’d slapped him. Bill growled at her and the sudden suspended silence. Then, there was a gasp.</p><p> </p><p>They turned at once and saw their mother standing the center of the kitchen, Stella a few steps behind her. "Bill - it's cruel." Maggie's voice trembled. She pressed it into her upper, creating a hard line.</p><p> </p><p>“Mom,” Scully said.</p><p> </p><p>“It's Christmas."</p><p> </p><p>“Dana’s been hiding something.” Bill was rubbing his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>Her mother’s eyes flicked back and forth between the pair of them. Scully glanced at Stella, who was examining her own hands. If she told her mother right now, they’d be stuck here. <em>Stella would be stuck here. </em></p><p> </p><p>“I was talking to Charlie,” she said. “I wished him a Merry Christmas. I told him I’d like to see him again.” She glared at Bill.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you need to tell me, Dana?” Maggie whispered.</p><p> </p><p>“Mom – tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not tomorrow. Today.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully glanced at Stella again. Her heart was thrumming, the force of each beat shooting up into her throat. They were caught. This was her fault. She bit her lower lip. <em>I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. </em></p><p> </p><p>Stella was watching her, icy-blue eyed. She gave a singular nod.</p><p> </p><p>Scully walked over to her mother and took her head. “Can we talk in the living room?”</p><p> </p><p>Maggie let Scully lead her out of the kitchen.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know Christmas is well and truly passed so thank you for sticking through with me. There will be one more chapter and I promise it will be happy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>December 25 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>When Scully was eleven years old, she had been the only girl in her class excluded from Jane Robinson's slumber party. She couldn’t remember why Jane had disliked her, or anything else about Jane for that matter, but she did remember crying at home in the brown, military-standard kitchen. Her mother had taken her hand and led her to the living room couch.</p><p> </p><p>“Not everyone is going to appreciate you, Dana.” Her mother had used two fingers to gently lift her chin and force her to hold her gaze. “But that doesn’t mean you aren’t worth loving.” Maggie’s other hand had covered her own – had felt strong and little rough.</p><p> </p><p>Now, the top of her mother’s hand felt tissue paper soft. “Mom.” She looked up into her mother’s ashen face. They were seated on the couch, knees touching. “I-”</p><p> </p><p>She remembered how Maggie had hugged her, let her cry into her shoulder, that afternoon as a little girl.</p><p> </p><p>“When I was in medical school, we studied human genetics, and we learned that concepts that many of us are raised to think of as binaries are actually subject to variation.”</p><p> </p><p>Her mother was staring at her, eyes wide. </p><p> </p><p>Scully sighed. Her mother didn’t tease out scientific metaphors to allow Scully to avoid saying exactly what she meant. Maggie was a smart woman but steeped in the opaque language of academia she was not. Scully tried again. “Do you remember your first crush?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t understand.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully bit her lip. “When you were a kid. The first time you looked at someone and wanted to keep staring at them because there was just something about them. And when you talked to them, it was the best but scariest part of your day.”</p><p> </p><p>“I – it was a long, time ago, Dana. Where’s this coming from?”</p><p> </p><p>Scully took a deep breath and examined her fingernails. “Mine was Sophie Zimmer in the seventh grade.” She looked back up at her mother. <em>We have the same eyes, </em>she thought. “My second ever was Peter Robinson in the ninth grade.”</p><p> </p><p>“You thought Sophie was cool. You’re saying you admired her.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully shook her head. “I thought I did. But I liked her, Mom. The same way I liked Peter.”</p><p> </p><p>Maggie’s lips parted slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“It – it took me a long time to realize.” She paused. “To appreciate that I wasn’t kidding myself. That I didn’t want to be <em>like </em>certain women. That I wanted to be with them."</p><p> </p><p>A beat.</p><p> </p><p>"It's called bisexuality.”</p><p> </p><p>Her mother’s mouth hung open further.</p><p> </p><p>Scully kept talking to try to tame her mother’s silence into something normal. “Charlie knew. Right around the time I’d accepted myself, I told him. This - we were in college. He wanted me to tell you and Dad, because he thought you might get more used to the idea with two kids who weren’t straight. But I was so afraid.” Scully could feel her heart beating, her chest constricting like it had a grip on her soul.</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t trust me.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully squeezed her hand. “I’m trusting you now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why now?”</p><p> </p><p>Scully imagined her lungs stuffed together and at the same time, she felt a little like smiling. “I’ve met someone.”</p><p> </p><p>Maggie tugged her hand from Scully’s. “Another woman.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” Her voice sounded high to her own ears, like her voice as a child. <em>Mom, I’m going to enter the science fair. Yes, I’m going to color the poster red during recess and then maybe I’ll go play soccer. The other girls said I was weird. They didn’t want me at the party. They didn’t want me, Mom. </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Maggie stood up. “This is just a lot to process.” She brought her hands to her head. “What about Fox?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mulder wants me to be happy. That’s all we really wanted for each other.”</p><p> </p><p>“But – you were attracted to him. You’re attracted to men as well?”</p><p> </p><p>Scully nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Then why not just stick with men? It’s – Dana, it’ll avoid so many problems.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m with who I’m with because I love her,” Scully said. “You don’t choose who you love.” </p><p> </p><p>Maggie’s eyes were glassy. “Yes – you do.” She left the room.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Scully sat on the couch for a moment with her hands resting on her legs. She felt silly for the knot in her throat and the pressure behind her eyes as she fought to keep her tears at bay. The evidence had not been on her side – her mother had never accepted Charlie, had never entertained the idea that same-sex romance was acceptable, even as her father had set the rules. But a little part of Scully had hoped she’d embrace it all. She’d embraced her pregnancy, after all. She wasn’t entirely invested in church dogma. Scully had held that hope like a little lit candle, protected it.</p><p> </p><p>She wanted to go to Stella, but if her mother had not already put two and two together (and by some miracle it seemed like she hadn’t), she would as soon as she saw Scully pulling Stella aside. No – letting the matter settle, distancing herself was the best way to protect Stella from the crossfire. <em>Wasn’t she always distancing herself? </em>She stood up and walked toward the front door. A walk. Even at the worst moments of her life, she’d moved. Motion as a coping mechanism. <em>Keep moving a little part of your brain can’t think about it – your dead sister or your dead daughter or you lost son or your mother rejecting who you are. </em>She pulled on her coat and hat, slid her feet into her boots, forewent mittens, and opened the door to the steeling cold of late afternoon.</p><p> </p><p>The road was empty. Houses on the street were spilling light from their windows, Christmas trees adorning their living rooms. She focused on the sound of her feet as they crunched under the snow, how the snow sank as the force from her foot exceeded the surface tension of the snow pile. She watched her own breath rise in front of her. The afternoon twilight cast muted pink at the horizon.</p><p> </p><p>The street was quiet enough to be another world - just like in <em>Coraline </em>- the world not created. <em>Coraline, </em>she remembered, had 'the other mother' - a villain. But even as little bits of anger steeped inside her she knew Maggie wasn't a villain. This wasn't Maggie's world to create and capture her. The knowledge didn't make it hurt any less.</p><p> </p><p>She would take the job in London, remember to call her brother more, her friends more. Monica worked over there now – she’d see her. She’d cook dinner with Stella and wake up next to her. She’d buy a good raincoat. Maybe Tara would let her keep in touch with Matthew. She could still live a life, without her mother’s approval.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Her mother, hugging her and kissing the top of her head, telling her not to worry, they’d have a fun night instead. We’ll have a slumber party here. I love you, Dana. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Dana!”</p><p> </p><p>Scully turned and squinted. A figure bundled in a fitted black coat, blond hair spilling out from under a white hat. “Stella?” She watched her approach.</p><p> </p><p>They stood together in the middle of the road. “It went poorly,” Stella said, after a moment.</p><p> </p><p>Scully nodded. “I was afraid if I went to you – they’d know and then you’d be dragged into this.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think your mother,” Stella took a breath, "has recently figured it out." She looked down at Scully’s hands. They were red and raw. Slowly, she slipped off her own gloves, placed them in her pocket, and lifted one. She began to rub Scully’s hand between her own.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so sorry, Stella. You don’t deserve this.” She could feel tears rising again to the surface and looked down at her feet to beat them back,</p><p> </p><p>“I should have gone home, you mean.”</p><p> </p><p>“Should you have?” She looked up.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe.” Stella’s face was so close to hers. She could see the pale freckle on the right side of Stella’s nose. “I probably wouldn’t have told her at all.”</p><p> </p><p>“You told her mother ages ago.” Scully felt the tears start to slide from her cheeks, hot against the cold air.</p><p> </p><p>“Because she caught me,” Stella said. “She wouldn’t have caught you in London.”</p><p> </p><p>Stella switched to Scully’s other hand.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve wanted to tell her for a long time. I didn’t plan on Bill hearing me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You used a telephone where he could hear you. Didn’t you work for the FBI?” There was an attempted levity in Stella’s voice that was falling flat.</p><p> </p><p>Scully was crying now. She pulled her hand from Stella’s. Stella wrapped her into a hug. “I’m sorry. I’m not very good at comforting.” She stroked Scully’s back as Scully sobbed into her hair. “What I mean to say, is that you took a chance. You were right to, I think.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully pulled back. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s waiting back at the house. She told me to come bring you home.” </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>Stella held Scully’s hand on the walk back and didn’t leg go even as they crunched up the driveway. Her mother opened the door when they reached the stoop.</p><p> </p><p>Scully looked up at Maggie. She could tell her own face was red, burned by the wind.</p><p> </p><p>Maggie’s arms were crossed. The lines in her face looked heavier, like her skin was sagging down around her cheeks.  “I didn’t mean you had to go.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just a walk,” Scully said.</p><p> </p><p>Maggie nodded. She stepped back and they entered the house again. Maggie was looking at her feet. “I’m sorry, Dana. I don’t pretend to understand what…how you are. But I’m not going to lose another one of my children. Will you stay, just for a little while?” She held out her arms, then – an offering of surrender, unapologetic, in its way, but still given.</p><p> </p><p>Scully took it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading, baring with me as Christmas day stretched out two weeks and ignoring my inevitable typos! I really enjoyed writing this - it was a stress-reliever, even through the angst. I'm not great at endings...maybe I'll write a squeal one day. Take care out there.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>February 12</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Stella was lounging on Scully’s couch, pink silk robe split open so that as Scully brought her a cup of tea, she could see the lacy inner edge of her bra. The robe slid across her breasts as she reached for the mug with a <em>thank you, darling. </em>Scully did not hand it to her. Instead, she placed it on the nearest coaster on the coffee table and sat next to Stella.</p><p> </p><p>The month of January had been a long one – cold mornings, a brother who had since stopped speaking to her, a mother who kept avoiding her eye contact even as she clasped her hand over coffee, and of course, Stella far away. She’d been counting down the days until the International Forensics conference was held at MIT, and Stella had arrived in at Raegan airport the weekend before to see Scully. They would drive up to Boston together tomorrow. </p><p> </p><p>Scully traced the lace of Stella’s bra. She leaned over and kissed her, dipping her tongue into Stella’s open mouth as she felt an arm wrap around her waist, tugging her forward. She straddled Stella and smiled above her. “Hello,” she whispered.</p><p> </p><p>Stella kissed her again. Scully felt Stella’s tongue rub against hers. She moaned. Stella was tracing slow, languid circles on her lower back. Her hips rolled into Stella and she reached to play with Stella’s nipple from over the satin bra. Stella’s breath hitched and she hummed. Scully smiled against her mouth – Stella was quiet during sex; each little pant and groan from her was sexier because it was well-earned.</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t we already do this?” Scully murmured, as if she weren’t the one to have started up again. She began to trace kisses down Stella’s neck. She could smell the undertones of cedar and rose in Stella’s perfume.</p><p> </p><p>Stella’s deft fingers traced the rim of Scully’s grey sweatpants, slipping under them to draw circles down to Scully’s labia.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,”  Scully whispered. She pushed herself into Stella’s hand as she pinched Stella’s other nipple.</p><p> </p><p>Stella slipped a single finger inside of her, curved it into a hook and rubbed Scully’s g-spot once before sliding it out of her and circling her labia again. “Distracted?” she murmured as Stella let out a whimper. Scully’s fingers hand grown sloppy in teasing Stella’s nipples.</p><p> </p><p>Scully leaned down and kissed Stella again, nipping at Stella’s bottom lip, gently clasping the tip of Stella’s tongue with between her teeth as it pushed into her own mouth, and then rubbing it in apology with her own.</p><p> </p><p>Two of Stella’s fingers found their way back into her and began to pump in and out. The palm of Stella’s hand brushed the soft skin around her clitoris.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh God.” Scully pressed herself in to Stella’s hand again, this time with more force.  </p><p> </p><p>Stella kissed her neck, her collarbone, her clavicle. Scully felt the drum of her own heartbeat against Stella’s lips.</p><p> </p><p>“My tea is getting cold, darling,” Stella murmured, her breath hot and wet on Scully’s collarbone. She gave Scully’s clit another swipe, all while Stella’s three fingers were still pumping into her. Scully could feel herself edging closer, the pressure and pleasure rising in tandem like synchronized chords, up an octave and another until Stella pressure the pad of her thumb over Scully’s clitoris and held it there and she untangled – chords unstrung.</p><p> </p><p>She fell forward onto Stella’s shoulder and panted. Stella’s fingers traced shapes along her back. Scully hummed. Stella smelled like soft, clean cotton and lavender.</p><p> </p><p>“Good?” Stella asked, enunciating each sound in the word like it was a secret.</p><p> </p><p>Scully nodded and lifted her head to look at Stella’s wide face– her pupils dilated, lips wet. She slid down Stella’s body, pooling at her feet and bringing her hands to the juncture of Stella’s hips to tug down her underwear.</p><p> </p><p>“My tea,” Stella said, but her body let out a soft, little shudder as Scully kissed her inner right thigh.</p><p> </p><p>Scully placed a kiss on the delicate skin of Stella’s left thigh, near the curve of her bottom. “I’ll heat it up in the microwave later.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sacrilege,” Stella murmured.</p><p> </p><p>Scully kissed Stella’s mons, her folds. “Should I stop?” She hovered over Stella, could smell her, see her getting wetter as she let out little, hot breaths just over her clit. </p><p> </p><p>Stella gently pressed the back of Scully’s forward, ever so slightly. Scully grinned.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Yes, the month of January had been a long one.</p><p> </p><p>Scully had told her mother about her plans to move to London over a cup of coffee. She’d even gone to church with her mother – a past ritual long-since ceased in favor of more pagan practices like extra work hours. During the service, her mother had kept glancing at Scully. Was she expecting her to start burning up? The looks had annoyed her enough that in the café after mass, there had been a part of her that had wanted to make her mother wince.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got a really great job opportunity, Mom.” She’d paused. “Near Stella. I’m – I’m moving to London.”  </p><p> </p><p>Her mother had looked like she might cry and the bitter part of Scully, so buoyant before, had been drowned by the guilt rolling inside her.  “It’s a really good job, Mom. Something I’ve wanted to do for a while.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll make you happy?”</p><p> </p><p>Scully had nodded and reached across the table to squeeze her mother’s hand.</p><p> </p><p>They hadn’t spoken much since then – a few phone calls, another long church service. Her mother seemed morose – desperate for her daughter’s company and yet distant when she had it. Maggie asked no questions about Stella or Scully’s moving plans, and when Scully had told her she couldn’t make it to the service the following weekend because of Stella’s visit she had responded with a neutral “mmm.”</p><p> </p><p>There was a knock at the door.</p><p> </p><p>Stella had paused, the sponge resting mid-swipe on the kitchen counter.  “Are you expecting someone?”</p><p> </p><p>Scully shook her head and made her way through the living room to open it. </p><p> </p><p>Her mother was standing on the other end in an oversized coat, dark hair frayed out at its edges. She was holding a tin. “Am I interrupting?” Her voice sounded higher than normal.</p><p> </p><p>“Mom – come in.” Scully stepped back and her mother shuffled inside.</p><p> </p><p>“You said Stella was visiting this weekend.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully nodded. “That’s right.”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought – I thought you two might enjoy some of these. St. Agatha’s had a bake sale I cooked for and…” she held out the tin. “There were extra.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully took the blue tin. “Thank you.” She bit her lip. It all felt horribly formal, as if her mother were a new neighbor. “Do you want to stay? We just finished dinner, but we could have some of these.”</p><p> </p><p>“I should probably go.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” It would be easier to let her mother go, curl up again with Stella and watch Jeopardy. And yet there was a force that had built over the past decade that refused to let her cut loose someone who didn’t have to be. “I’d really like it if you’d stay. Just for a little while.” She waited for her mother to raise her head.</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll be awkward, Dana.”</p><p> </p><p>Scully shrugged. “You’ll like her, Mom.” She said quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, Maggie looked up. “I do like her. She’s good to you.” Her mother’s eyes were wet, brimming with tears held in by the long-honed skill of housewife composure.</p><p> </p><p>Scully felt tears begin to form in her own eyes. Can a person catch tears the way they catch a yawn? “I’m so lucky, Mom. I’d like it if you knew her better.” <em>I’d like it if you laughed and chatted with her, if you talked to me like you used to. I’d like it if loving me wasn’t so hard but - </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>Maggie smiled at her daughter, her lower lip trembling a little. She took a step inside. “I guess. I can stay for dessert. I’d like that.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Th end </em> <em>😊</em></p>
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